


Above The Rain And Roses

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mystery, F/M, Inspired by a Film, Laura (1944) - Freeform, dense potato!Sandor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: Top homicide detective Sandor Clegane investigates the death of a wealthy young socialite, a woman who had a seemingly perfect life and droves of men falling over themselves for her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeekabooFang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeekabooFang/gifts).



> I started writing this a while ago, but then when I saw PeekabooFang's fic, I suddenly had doubts about my own version. Thank you, PeekabooFang, for giving me the encouragement to post this. I hope I do justice to the source material as you did.
> 
> The film Laura is really good, and I encourage everyone to give it a try sometime. :)

Sandor stared down at the scene before him. The flash of the crime guys’ cameras made it all the more gruesome. The mutilated body was at odds with the clean and tidy apartment, the copper scent of blood with the floral potpourri that screamed of propriety. The vic was nobility, though the status didn't mean the same as it once did. _Poor kid. Never stood a chance._

Her head had been bashed in, the killer’s fury unleashed and making her face unrecognizable. She hadn't even had time to try and defend herself. Her silk bathrobe was cinched tight around her waist, and the coroner suspected she had been raped as the life left her. She'd know more once the body was back at the morgue and she could perform a full autopsy.

“Poor little rich girl,” his partner said. He was looking over the woman's desk and picked up a framed photo. “Pretty, too. My money's on a jilted lover. Girls like her tend to have loads of boyfriends.” Beric tossed the photo to Sandor.

He turned it over in his hands to take a look. She wasn't pretty. She was gorgeous. And he knew her. Sort of. Four years ago, he had saved a woman on the street from being raped by a gang of men taking advantage of a riot downtown. He didn't know her name, not until today. She had thanked him, and he had responded by shoving her into a cab, flashing his badge at the cabbie and telling the man to get the little bird out of there. He sometimes wondered what happened to her. Who would have thought she'd end up like this. He knelt beside the body and whispered to the dead woman, “Who in the world wanted to kill you, Sansa Stark?”


	2. Chapter 2

“She's the daughter of Ned Stark. Engaged to my son, Joffrey, but they've been having problems since last year. They called off the marriage six months ago, much to his mother's delight, but I had hopes that they would work things out. I was the one who was upset. She's like a daughter to me, and I had hoped that she and Joffrey could be as her aunt and I should have been, but as long as she was happy, who was I to question it?” Robert Baratheon told them. He was the one that called the police, and then demanded their best detective be put in charge of the case. Being a former mayor had its perks. He had also identified himself as Miss Stark's godfather and close friend.

“Did she have any enemies? Anyone who would want to do her harm?” Sandor asked.

“No. Everyone loved her. She is… I mean… _was_ the kindest, most generous and genuine person you could ever hope to meet. Why anyone would kill her is beyond me. Oh, well, my ex-wife didn't care for her much, but I doubt it was enough to kill her.”

“Why did…” Sandor flipped through his memory. Robert Baratheon and his family were well known in the city. “Why did Cersei Lannister dislike Miss Stark?”

“Jealousy. Pure and simple. Sansa was everything Cersei wanted people to believe about her. Cersei loves our son more than anything else in this world. If they were any closer, I would think that they were fucking. Oh, she also accused me of having an affair with Sansa. I wasn't, of course. Young enough to be my daughter. Completely outrageous.”

Sandor raised his good eyebrow. It was common knowledge that former Mayor Baratheon like women of all ages, usually brunettes. It was the reason his wife had finally divorced him after a series of very violent, very _public_ outbursts. “Right. Why were your son and Miss Stark having problems?”

“Ah...Joff’s got a bit too much of his father in him. Boy’s got a wandering eye. Sansa, however, she’s not the kind of woman you cheat on.”

“But Cersei Lannister is?” Sandor was a little amazed by the man’s logic.

“She was, is, and always will be a bitch. I only married her because I thought it would be good for my political career. Sansa’s a true lady, born and bred, like her mother. Now, _there_ is a fine woman.” The look in Mr. Baratheon’s eyes was one that made Sandor shudder a bit. It was clear that he did not hold back from lusting after his best friend’s wife.

“Alright, thank you, Mr. Baratheon. If we have any further questions, we will be touch.”

“I better get Ned and Cat on the line. They’re up North, but they’ll want to be here for this.”

“Oh, ah, actually, it would be better if you leave that to me and my partner. We'll need to follow up the news with some questions and we are specifically trained to handle this situation,” Beric chimed in. Sandor had a feeling it was less about regulation and more about the fact that Robert Baratheon would likely fuck it up.

They left the crime scene guys to finish processing and went to the next room, the study. This room was just as tidy as the living room, but there were a lot more books. A small section of fiction, mostly romance and fantasy, and the rest of it was psychology books and notebooks. “What did this Stark girl do again?”

“Uh…” Beric flipped through his notes. “Ran a shelter, down on Steel and 45th. Why?”

“Why would she need this many books on psychology?” He picked up on of the notebooks and opened it. Her neat cursive handwriting filled the pages, little diagrams and doodles illustrated any ideas that words were insufficient for. He couldn't make heads or tails of it, but she was definitely writing in code about a subject, and it was all dated in the right hand corner of each page.

Beric came over to stand next to him. “Trying to help the women that came to her shelter? There's at least five on battered woman syndrome. Child psychology, too.” Sandor picked up a smaller notebook, different from the ones on her shelves.

“She was also studying it at Wes U.” They turned to find a short young woman standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she was holding onto her arms like she would fall apart if she didn't. Sandor pocketed the small notebook. He would study it later. “I'm Arya. Arya Payne. Sansa’s… She _was_ my elder sister.”

“How did you get past the officers?” Sandor demanded. “This is an active crime scene, family members are not allowed--”

“I'm one of you.” Arya flashed her badge. “Detective over in the four-seven, Flea Bottom, mostly B & E’s. I heard her address over the comms…” She bowed her head, gathering herself, Sandor surmised, then handed him a business card. “I know I can't work the case, but if there is anything I can do, please don't hesitate to ask.”

She handed over her card. “I'm Detective Clegane, this is Detective Dondarrion.”

“Clegane? I know you. Well, I've heard of you.”

Sandor sighed. “I assure you, my Hound reputation is for my ability to close cases, not because I'm secretly a cage fighter.” _Anymore,_ he wanted to add, but Beric would kill him if he did.

“No, not that. Well, actually yes, I had heard of that, but no, I mean, I heard about you from Sansa. You saved her in the Bread Riot a few years ago.” His good eyebrow went up, surprised she had told anyone about it. He certainly hadn't. “She had been visiting me at my station and got caught up in it. She's a bit of a sleuth… _was,_ I mean. She could find the truth. Finding out who you were was child’s play for her. She wanted to thank you in person, but someone at your station told her you hated that sort of thing. Did you at least get the cookies she baked for you?”

“No.” Fucking Boros Blount. He was probably the one who scared her away and kept the cookies. _That fat bastard…_ “Didn't need thanks. Was just doing my job.”

“Well, on behalf of my sister and my family, I thank you. Even if she is no longer with us now, you gave her more time with her family, more time to do what she needed to do…" Arya said, bowing at the waist to him. He felt very uncomfortable with praise for an action that didn't do Sansa Stark much good in the long run.

“When was the last time you spoke to your sister?” Sandor asked, attempting to get back on track.

“Yesterday. She was getting ready to go out of town, emergency trip over to Essos. She didn't say where or why. Said she'd text me when she landed. Obviously, she didn't.”

“Was she distressed or acting strangely?”

“No. A bit hurried, but she was trying to catch a flight and someone was knocking… on the door… Oh gods… It was him, wasn't it?! The killer!”

“Calm, detective, calm,” Beric said in a reassuring voice. “It is a possibility. What time where you talking to her?”

“I… I think it was around six, maybe six-thirty. Sun was still up…Let me check my phone...” Her hands shook, and Beric gently took the phone from her, bringing up the information they needed.

“Ok, estimated T.O.D. is between nine p.m. and four a.m. It was likely not the suspect. Who would visit her at that time?”

She rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve, “I'm not sure. Maybe the dog sitter? She didn't like to leave Lady in the kennel when she had to go out of town, not since she caught parvo that one time and nearly died, so she paid the kid two floors up to take care of her. Uh...apartment 8E, I think. I never paid attention to the actual number. It's the one farthest from the elevator.”

“Ok, we'll go speak to… what’s the kid’s name?”

“Oh, his name is Lommy. Not really a kid, he's just on the short side, and I know him from high school. He helped Sansa get this apartment when she moved here.”

“That was awful kind of him,” Sandor noted. “Not many people would do that sort of thing for _no_ reason.”

Arya snorted. “It's not what you think. Lommy’s gay. And he did it as a favor to me. I saved his scrawny ass from cock hungry homophobes numerous times. He owes me more than a few favors, actually.”

Beric chuckled. “Is there anyone you can think of that has it out for your sister? Anyone who would do this?”

Arya shook her head. “No, everyone loved her. She's one of the most giving people you'd ever meet. Almost to the point of stupidity, to be honest. I guess her almost monster-in-law is the nearest to hating her. But Cersei was thrilled when Sansa and Joffrey broke up.”

“Why did they break up? Could Joffrey Baratheon have--”

Arya waved the thought off. “No. He'd have to be interested first. She gave the ring back and everything. Joffrey only started dating Sansa when he thought it would give him a leg up in society. Asked her to marry him and everything, after a mere month of dating. She was a dolt and said yes, because she was swept away by the romance of it all. She quickly realized Joffrey was not who he made himself out to be in the beginning, and _he_ realized she would do nothing for his standing. Plus, she caught him cheating on her and he was not remorseful _at all._ It went downhill from there, but while Joffrey’s a jackass, he wouldn’t do this. The only ones who _might…_ well, I don’t actually know their names.”

“Do you know how we can find them?”

“Not exactly. The shelter Sansa runs… ran, it specialized in helping people trying to escape abuse. Men, women, children, doesn’t matter who, as long as they need help. Some of the men and women escape from some very violent people. The shelter does everything it can to protect their employees and the people they help, but it’s not impossible, ya know?”

Sandor nodded. He had been called to too many domestic disturbances back in the day. “Yeah, I know.”

**********

The kid known as Lommy was older than Arya Payne, but he did have this effervescent quality to him. At least until they told him the news. “No, she can't be dead! We're supposed to have a marathon of My Little Pony when she gets back from her trip,” he said, covering his mouth to try and stifle the sudden sobbing. “She had never seen it, and it's truly an amazing show.”

“Did she leave her dog with you?”

He shook his head. “I worked the evening shift last night. She said she'd text me details once she got things in order…but she never did...” They left their cards with the man, in case he thought of anything else, before leaving to the shelter.

**********

“She's...she's dead?” Tommen Baratheon asked in shock. “Has anyone let my brother know?”

Sandor shook his head. “Not yet. We'll be heading over to him next, but your father might have told him. He was the one to discover her.”

Tommen made a face. “Father was never _appropriate_ when it came to Sansa. She never told him that he was bothering her, but I _knew_ she felt uncomfortable with his attention. I'm not surprised he made an unexpected house call to her.”

“How long have you worked with Miss Stark?” Beric asked.

“We started working at the shelter around the same time. Completely a coincidence, as I had met her the day before we both started, when Joffrey brought her home for dinner. Let's see, that would be three years next month. Well, would have been…”

“Awfully good memory you've got there,” Sandor remarked. The young Baratheon blushed.

“Sansa was very memorable,” he mumbled shyly, his ears turning bright pink.

“Clegane’s only teasing you, lad,” Beric said with a laugh. “You're a bit in love with her then?”

“I think just about everyone was. Except maybe Joffrey, but he's--”

“I'm _what,_ baby brother?” Joffrey Baratheon entered the room, sneering at the younger boy. “Who are these uggos?”

Sandor glared at him, but Joffrey was either too stupid or too cocky to recognize the danger he was in. Beric stepped forward. “Pardon the intrusion, Mr. Baratheon. I'm Detective Dondarrion, this is Detective Clegane. We're investigating--”

“Is this about the missing money? Look, I told the board that the thieves were very thorough in wiping away any digital prints. I scoured the system, but there's no trace.” Sandor doubted it. Joffrey was too laid back, too bored by the entire thing. _Probably didn't even check, unless he was the one to do it in the first place._ He made a note to call his friend Tormund over in cybercrimes.

“Joffrey,” Tommen whined. “It's about Sansa.”

“Let me guess, she's making a complaint about me? I only hit her that one time, and I was really drunk. I don't even remember it. She was probably getting lippy at me, so I'm not surprised I did it. The gods know it's the only way to really shut a woman up.” Tommen was aghast. Sandor was pretty livid himself.

“You _HIT_ her?!” his brother screamed.

Joffrey shrugged. “I guess so.”

Tommen went to sit down, his skin looking too pale. Sandor pushed the trash can over near him, just in case he vomited. The kid was too fragile.

“Where were you between the hours of nine p.m. and four a.m. last night?” Beric asked.

“If she's saying I hit her again--”

“Miss Stark was killed last night. We're trying to rule out possible suspects,” Beric said.

Joffrey’s eyes went wide. “You think _I_ killed her?!”

“You did just admit to hurting her before,” Sandor pointed out. “So far you're the only person who has malevolent feelings towards her.”

“I didn't do it! I haven't seen her since last week!” His voice became shrill. “She's such an uptight bitch, never put out when I demanded it. Plus, her father refused to back me in a local political campaign, and _she_ refused to use the Stark name to help me, so she was no good to me. Why would I even care about someone like that??”

The stinging slap surprised them, Tommen most of all. He stared at his hand, and then the bright red mark blossoming on his brother's cheek. “Sh-she's a b-b-better person than y-y-you could _ever_ hope to be,” he stammered. His face was turning very pink. “I need to go call Myrcella to let her know. She'll be wanting to come home for Sansa's funeral. My sister and Sansa were very close before she left for school in Dorne,” he explained to the detectives. He gave another look to Joffrey before running out of the room.

Joffrey was in a state of shock. Sandor could only surmise that little brother didn't stand up to him very often. “Mr. Baratheon, where were you last night?” Beric asked again. That snapped the man out of his stupor. He dug through his wallet and handed them a card. “You were at a law firm?”

“No. Any further questions can be directed at my lawyers,” he sneered and stalked out of the room.

They talked to a few of the other workers there, but they all had the same sentiment as Tommen. Sansa was an angel, who worked tirelessly to help the people who came to the shelter.

**********

After calling it for the night, Sandor went home to an empty house. The silence was near deafening as he opened the fridge. A half filled bottle of ketchup sat on the center shelf, a container of something more mold than anything else, and some sugar packets. “Why in the seven hells are there sugar packets in here…” he muttered. He closed the door with a sigh. He hated his apartment. The only thing it was good for was a place to sleep until his day started again. He shut the refrigerator door with a slam and went back out into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made some minor changes to the previous chapter, basically corrected some timeline issues. Joffrey and Sansa broke off their engagement approximately six months prior to the events of this story, not one week.

Sandor was at the police station when Beric came in. “Did you get here early or stay all night?” Beric asked, eyeing the coffee maker. Sandor had a tendency of drowning his sorrows in bitter caffeine, which was only mildly better than what he used to drown it in when he was in high school. His time in the military had kicked the alcohol habit right out of him. 

“Fuck you.”

Beric nodded. “Stayed all night then. Find anything?”

Sandor snorted and showed Beric a thick book nearly the width of Sandor's wrist. They hadn't found her phone, laptop or anything useful like that, but a secondary sweep of her place had yielded some results. “Swung by her apartment last night and found this. Her journal. As well as a shit ton of wigs in a hidden closet.” He omitted the fact that he had slept on her couch the remainder of the night and had slept better than he had in years. For once, he hadn't woken up from a nightmare of not being able to save the faceless victims that haunted his dreams. He attributed it to the lemon blossom potpourri that had been on the coffee table. 

“The crime scene,” Beric corrected. 

“What? That's what I said.” Sandor frowned at him, but Beric shook his head. 

“You said, ‘her apartment.’”

“It's the same thing,” he said, still frowning. 

Beric shrugged. “One implies that she is still alive and the other does not.”

“Semantics.”

“Semantics is what gets our job done,” Beric pointed out. Sandor snorted. “So is there anything interesting in there?”

“Yes and no. It gives me-- us, it gives  _ us _ an idea of her psyche, her personality. Unfortunately, she’s quite the social butterfly, so there are a lot of people we’re going to need to interview. I'm not even halfway through the damn thing. She wrote a  _ lot, _ and this is only from the past year and a half. Been going back and forth between recent entries and past ones. Last one was the morning she died, but there's not much there except that she needed to speak to someone she called 'Sin Cara'. No clues yet on who that is.”

“Anyone else stick out?”

“A few people. She talks about how her uncle Brandon often visits her, asks for money. I did some background digging on him. He’s the impulsive type, heavy into gambling. Miss Stark is one of the few people who still helps him, it seems. There’s also one man from the shelter that she speaks of. Calls him ‘Mint Man’, since she doesn’t know his real name. He claims to be a victim of abuse, but Miss Stark can’t see any of the usual signs. She suspects that he’s actually luring women and men away to recruit them for brothels, but she can’t prove it and because of their policies, she can’t prevent him from coming into the shelter. That one was from nearly a year ago, however, and she hasn't mentioned it since, as far as I can tell.”

“Tommen Baratheon can probably help with that. Anyone else?”

“A neighbor two floors down from her who sounds like a psychopath with a sociopath for a son. The kid was apparently tormenting a dog, and Miss Stark was livid about it. She called the cops and the neighbor went ballistic. The woman was arrested for neglect and the kid was sent to juvie. She was let out after a few months, but has harbored a grudge ever since.” He handed over the file.

"Hmm… Oh, shit…"

"What?" It was rare that Beric cursed.

He tossed the file on the desk. "Myranda Snow… I am…  _ acquainted _ with her."

"Seriously?" Sandor asked, raising his unburnt eyebrow.

Beric nodded and sat down next to Sandor's desk. "She's Ramsay's ex. From before he realized he was gay. The kid's not his, though he did think he was for the longest time. She had to drop out of high school when she got pregnant so young, barely even fifteen, Ramsay came from money, and was one of three boyfriends she was sleeping with… Myranda has… well, to say she has issues is to put it lightly. I doubt she did it though. She's more the 'make you watch in order to suffer' type, not the 'kill you to end you' type. Plus, she's a loner. Unless Myranda's got a partner, she's not our perp."

Sandor frowned. "True, there was definitely only one person who attacked Miss Stark, not a pair or a team."

"We'll still question her. Anyway, there's a reason why I'm here early. Tyrell has a report ready for us."

**********

Sandor hated the stench of the morgue. It wasn't even that it smelled like death, because it didn't. No, it smelled of chemicals, of medicine, of disinfectant. It reminded him of his time in the hospital clean room when he was just a boy. He hated coming down here, but at least the coroner was easy to deal with.

"Olenna," Beric said, giving the woman a huge smile. "You look beautiful as always."

"Sure, if a wrinkly, old prune does it for you," she remarked, but the corner of her mouth was turned up. "Here for the preliminary report on the Stark girl?" Beric nodded. "Alright, so, sorry to say that she was indeed raped, but if she wasn't already dead at that point, then she was most likely unconscious, so there's that little solace."

"DNA evidence?"

Olenna shook her head. "Unfortunately not. He must have worn a condom." It was the way she said it that caught Sandor's attention.

_ "Must _ have?" Sandor asked. "Are you not sure?"

She looked disgruntled. "It's vexing. There's no lubricant or spermicide as you would normally see, nor is there any semen, but… there is  _ definitely _ signs of forced intercourse. I suppose he could have cleaned up after himself, but… even that should leave evidence. It's like she was violated by a ghost." She put her hands on her hips. "It's frustrating beyond belief. I'm running a few other tests, but it will take a few days to get the results back. We're backed up down here as it is, what with the Ripper wannabe on the loose."

"Ah, yes, I heard you were doing some work for that one," Beric said, giving Olenna a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sandor had heard about that one. Someone was killing women and men alike, just like Jack the Ripper had done more than a hundred years ago. His victims weren't just prostitutes, however, and after a year of no progress, the FBI had been brought in for it. Olenna's granddaughter, Margaery Tyrell, was heading the investigation, and had coroners in every district working with her. It was a shit show, not because of the people investigating, but because of the person committing the crimes. Whoever it was seemed to always be one step ahead of them, and Sandor was grateful to have not been assigned to the task force.

**********

"So… The bitch is dead. Good." Myranda Snow was every bit the stereotypical psycho Beric had led him to believe she was. Her cold, dead stare was trained on Beric at the moment. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer person," she said with a grin.

"Where were you the night before last, between the hours of nine in the evening and four in the morning?" Beric asked in a flat voice.

"Workin'. Got a kid to feed."

"Your  _ kid _ is sixteen years old. Tyros is old enough to work and feed himself, especially since he dropped out of school," Beric said. 

"And he'll always be my baby boy."

Beric gave a weary sigh. "We'll need to confirm your whereabouts."

"Well, lucky for you, I ain't turning tricks on the street corner anymore. Got a nice gig out in the Red Keep district, shaking my tits for all the politicians and horndogs of our ee- _ lust _ -trious capital." Myranda kept boring her cold stare into Beric. "Cat's Cradle Gentleman's Club, worked from seven to seven, and made more than enough to stay in this dump for another month. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get some sleep. Can't be falling down on the job, you know." With that, she slammed the door in their faces.

"So… that went well," Sandor said as they walked away from the psycho's apartment. They stopped at the club on the way to the shelter to confirm Myranda's story with her manager. The man was disappointed to know that he could verify it.

**********

They were back at the shelter, questioning all the staff about potential suspects. Tommen's sister, Myrcella, had been with him, but at the mention of Sansa's name, she had burst into tears and had been escorted out by another staff member, mumbling apologies the entire time. She was a wisp of a thing, reminding Sandor of a delicate fairy creature from a children's book. She shared the same golden locks and green eyes as her brothers. Tommen had apologized on her behalf as well, explaining again how close she and Sansa had been. 

"Is it possible someone with a grudge against the shelter might have done it?" Sandor asked. "Someone who was 'escaped from'?"

"Hmm, well, the list of abusers who would hurt shelter staff is a mile long, plus there's all the anonymous hate mail we get, saying we're breaking up families," Tommen said. "We do everything we can to prevent them finding home addresses, of course."

"What about someone who's pretending to be a victim?" Sandor asked him. Beric was in the next room, speaking to another volunteer. He hadn't been as suspicious of the person Sansa had mentioned in her journal and would likely get on Sandor's case for bringing it up.

"Pretending? Who would pretend to be a victim?"

"I found a note in Miss Stark's handwriting, mentioning someone she suspected of using the shelter as a shopping place for a brothel. She didn't have a name, just called him, 'Mint Man'. Any ideas on him?"

"Ooooohhhhh, him! Yeah, I know who you mean, unfortunately. His name is Petyr Baelish." Sandor recognized the name from more recent entries in Sansa's journal. He was on the list of people they still had to interview. "It was a huge blow up when Sansa confronted him. He swore up and down he was truly a victim of domestic abuse, but he was not like anyone else we've ever seen. He smiled way too much, especially at Sansa." Tommen frowned. "His whole mentality was out of place here, to be honest. He accused us of picking and choosing who we wanted to help, but he's the only person we had ever actually doubted. Now that I think about it, I'm not even sure how he found out about us. Once it was clear that we weren't buying his story, he admitted that he wasn't a victim, but was investigating our shelter because he wanted to  _ help _ us."

"And did he?"

Tommen nodded, though he looked very put out about it all. "He helps fund us now, and offers classes to the people we help. Skills and whatnot, as well as therapy."

"How kind of him."

The boy shrugged. "I don't trust him."

"Why's that?" 

"Besides the fact that he runs one of the most successful and definitely the most sleazy porn companies in all of Westeros, and he's using the profits to help fund a domestic abuse shelter? He's…. he's  _ too _ nice, you know? You see it all the time in this field. The guy who's working you until he gets what he wants. He's putting a lot of effort into helping us, but I don't believe he's doing it because he  _ believes _ in our work." He huffed a bit. "I think it was because of Sansa."

Sandor frowned. "How much has he invested?"

"Close to half a million at this point, I think. I can get the exact numbers for you if you need them."

"I'll let you know. That's a lot of money for just a woman." 

_ "Sansa was not just some woman!!" _ Tommen snarled at Sandor.

He raised an eyebrow at the young man. "Easy there, kid."

Tommen blinked. "I… I'm so sorry! I just… Sansa was very much one of a kind. Easily worth all the money in the Seven Kingdoms. Anyone who really knew her would tell you that."

Sandor had little doubt now that the boy was in love with the victim. He couldn't blame him. The more he learned about Sansa Stark, the more he wished he had been able to know her in life. "It's fine. You're protective of her, I get it. But you said yourself that you don't trust this Petyr Baelish. Why?"

Tommen looked down at his feet. "I… I can't quite pinpoint as to why. I mean, there's no one thing that makes me distrust him. It's a lot of little things. To start with, how he came to be a supporter of ours, but then there's the way he watched Sansa, the way he was around her. The fact that he called her his protege. Then there's the fact that she looks  _ exactly _ like a younger version of her mother, who Mr. Baelish has  _ admitted _ to being obsessed with."

"I think I understand what you're driving at. The question is, is Mr. Baelish the type of man who would bankrupt himself for the love of a woman?" 

"No. But for the conquest?" Tommen said, looking Sandor straight in the eyes. "I have the feeling that, yes, he would."

**********

Early the next morning, Sandor and Beric met in front of Mockingbird Plaza, homebase for Titan Exotics Studios. The office of Petyr Baelish was straight out of an issue of  _ Pimp Monthly, _ if such a publication existed. Even Sandor, who had never made more than thirty-thousand a year, knew that the entire place screamed new money. It was far from the elegant world of Sansa Stark. "Too fucking early in the morning to deal with shit like this," he muttered. Beric chuckled his agreement.

"This place makes me feel like I need several hot showers once I leave," Beric said as they waited in the lobby. 

"Mr. Baelish will see you now," the receptionist said, opening the door for them. 

The walk to Baelish's office only provided more to the theory that the man did not come from a background of nobility. Gold statues, fine tapestries, and decadent baubles decorated the place in a garish style. He supposed it was to convey wealth, but it clashed too much with itself to achieve that job and just looked tacky. "Ah, detectives. My secretary tells me you're here about Sansa. I read the news in the paper. Such a shame. She was like no other I've ever met."

"Not even like her mother?" Sandor asked before he could stop himself.

Baelish smiled. "Cat is an equally fine woman, with terrible tastes in men." 

"Says the man who makes his money exploiting men and women." Beric stomped hard on Sandor's foot, but he just grimaced and smiled at Baelish. "Just my opinion, though." 

Baelish smiled back with an icy glare. "Are you telling me you've never watched porn to satisfy your bodily urges before, detective? I find that hard to believe," he said, looking pointedly at Sandor's scars. 

His temper flared, but he kept himself rooted to the spot. "I'm just saying, stones and glass houses, Mr. Baelish. I'm the last guy in a position to judge anyone, much like yourself."

"Yes, well, there is no denying that Eddard Stark is an influential man," Baelish said with much bitterness. "So, you have questions about my protege?"

"We're trying to pinpoint her activities the night of her death. Did you have any contact with her that night?" Beric asked before Sandor could further alienate Petyr Baelish.

"Sansa and I were like two peas in a pod. She understood me like no other. We were close, of course. As her mentor, I had great influence in her life."

"Such as?" Sandor asked, not believing the man. He reeked of lies.

"Such as, I was the one that showed her how much like his father Joffrey Baratheon was. I was the one who stifled that relationship with Harrold Hardyng, the man who was later found to be the 'baby daddy', as the kids say, of five different women. He was sniffing around her right after she and the Baratheon brat broke up. I was the one who exposed Willas Tyrell as the  _ homosexual _ unworthy of Sansa's affection."

Sandor frowned at that. He knew of Willas through Olenna, and as far as he knew, her grandson had never been in hiding about his sexuality or the fact that he was dating Oberyn Martell, much to the dismay of his grandmother. She hated Oberyn and wished Willas would go for a nice, wholesome boy instead. Sansa's journal mentioned him in passing, and not of any romantic interest. As far as he could tell, Willas Tyrell was only talking with Sansa for something related to the shelter. Hardyng had also been mentioned, though only a few dates, at her mother's insistence, and nothing more serious than that. "How benevolent of you."

"Yes, well, it would be a lie to say that I did not  _ care _ for Sansa. As of late, she had begun to return my affection, and we…  _ ahem, _ consummated it just last week."  _ That _ was definitely a lie. Thanks to Sansa's journal, Sandor knew that she detested the man and wouldn't let him touch her with a ten-foot pole. 

"That doesn't answer the question, did you have contact with her that night?"

Baelish gave them a strained smile. "Of course I did, but only to exchange words of love and nothing more."

"Surprised you didn't want to see her before she left the city," Sandor said. "Give her a goodbye fuck."

Baelish frowned. "Sansa is a  _ lady, _ detective, even if she is gone from this world. You ought to treat her as such. And she wasn't  _ going _ anywhere, hence the reason we only spoke instead of making passionate love that night. I was home all night, alone of course, without my lady love. If there's anything further, please set up an appointment with my secretary." With that, they were dismissed from Petyr Baelish's office and attention.

"He's lying," Sandor said once they were back in the elevator.

"No shit, even I could tell that. But why? Think he's hiding something?" Beric asked.

"Either that or he's pathological." 

**********

Sansa's parents made it to town in record time and met them at the police station. Catelyn Stark did bear a striking resemblance to Sansa, but she looked like she had aged ten years overnight. Sandor supposed that the loss of a child would do that to a person, especially one as beloved as Sansa seemed to be. Arya Payne accompanied her parents.

"Mom, Dad, this is Clegane. He and Detective Dondarrion are heading the investigation into Sansa's… case." The young woman couldn't bring herself to say  _ murder. _ Sandor couldn't blame her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stark, we are so sorry for your loss," Beric said, taking their hands in his one at a time. "We are dedicated to finding the person behind this terrible crime, and were hoping to ask you a few questions." 

"Yes, of course," Eddard Stark said. "Please, call me Ned. Anything we can help with, do not hesitate to ask. Oh, has Lady been found? We'd like to take her with us, if we can." 

"Miss Stark's dog? No, she is still missing, unfortunately."

Beric led them to a private office away from the bullpen of officers and detectives. Catelyn Stark was staring into space and Sandor wondered how aware of her surroundings she was. 

"We've been told that there are very few people who have a dislike for your daughter. Is there anyone you can think of who would want to do this to her? Anyone who would benefit monetarily from her death?" Beric asked gently.

Ned shook his head. "No. I've been wracking my brain this whole trip down here, and there is no reason I can think of that anyone would want to…" He shook his head. "She has one beneficiary to her trust fund. It goes to the shelter, but they are financially sound and don't have a need for it. All of her siblings have their own money, and as far as I know, there is no discord between them." He looked to Arya, who was holding on to Catelyn from the other side.

"He's right. We sometimes fight, but we would never betray each other like that. I am the only other Stark child in this city right now anyway, and I was out with my husband and friends that night."

"You know we'll have to check with them. As well as with your other siblings." 

Arya nodded and handed over folded pieces of paper. "I know. List of names, phone numbers, and the place we were eating at. Second sheet has contact info for my brothers--"

"You think  _ Arya _ did it?" Catelyn suddenly hissed, turning her red rimmed eyes towards Beric.

"Mom," Arya said softly, "This is standard--"

"My girls would never turn on each other!" Catelyn screamed, rising up like banshee from the seventh hell. "How  _ dare you--" _

Arya slapped her mother. "MOM! Stop that! That's not helping! They  _ are _ going to find Sansa's killer, they  _ are _ going to lock that person away for the rest of their life, but they  _ have _ to rule out as many possible suspects as they can, and  _ that _ includes family members. My gods, Uncle Brandon has done worse things to… to…" Catelyn had sunk back down to the couch, no longer listening to her younger daughter and was sobbing into her husband's shirt sleeve. "Detectives, I need another sheet of paper."


	4. Chapter 4

Ned had taken Catelyn back to the hotel while Arya hung around to speak with them further. "Look, I hate pointing fingers, especially at a family member, but… you need to run down every suspect. If the killer turns out to be my own flesh and blood…" Her jaw was set in a hard line. "My uncle Brandon is my father's older brother. My grandfather disowned him years ago because of his gambling problems. He's impulsive, a hot head… never really thinks things through, you know? Gramps kept bailing him out and finally, enough was enough. Dad and Uncle Benjen cut him off a few years after that. Aunt Ly cut him off before he ever asked her. The two of them haven't ever really gotten along, to be honest. Uncle Brandon is a good guy, when he's not drinking. Most days, he's a functioning alcoholic. But if he got drunk enough _and_ mad enough, he'd turn on any of us."

"You have experience with that?" Sandor asked.

Arya gave a curt nod. "Bastard attacked me when I told him I wasn't giving him any more money. He's _lucky_ my husband stopped me from killing him."

"Would he have…" Sandor hesitated in asking. "Do you believe he could ever be in the frame of mind to not only kill your sister, but also rape her?"

Arya didn't flinch. "When he drinks, he's capable of just about anything. And I know for a fact that he was in town this week."

**********

The hotel Brandon Stark was staying at was a dead end. "'Hotel'," Sandor snorted. "That's generous. This place is little more than rat trap." He kicked a dead rat out of the way to prove his point. 

"This certainly isn't even up to Flea Bottom standards," Beric replied. "Though, still not the worst place to crash. It has a roof and most of its walls." 

"Let's get this over with. The air is aggravating my scars." He had been fighting the urge to scratch at his face as soon as they entered the building.

The manager knew exactly who they were asking about. "That asshole owes me three hundred gold dragons, as well as two nights stay here!"

"Why three hundred dragons?" Beric asked. 

The manager grumbled. "He convinced me to play some rounds of Highgarden Hold 'Em. It was fun, and I won, but then he ran out of here before I could get my winnings. Haven't seen him since. I was getting ready to clean out his room. Help yourself to it."

 The contents of Brandon's room was actually sadder than Sandor's house. His place was at least _clean_. The rented room smelled like death. They found ticket stubs from the Red Keep Racetrack, receipts from some hole in the wall restaurants in Flea Bottom, and a voucher for an infamous strip club. 

Every place they checked, it was a similar story, but they all ended the same way. Brandon Stark was an asshole, but they hadn't seen him in a few days.

**********

"Well, Brandon Stark has an alibi," Sandor said, dropping his phone back onto the receiver. "He was arrested outside of an illegal gambling den on Silk Street four days ago, and couldn't make bail, so he's in county lockup until his trial. No way he was able to do this."

"Thank goodness," Beric said. Sandor gave him a quizzical look. "The thought that an uncle might kill and rape his own niece is not one I wanted to know."

"We've seen worse," Sandor pointed out.

"I know, it's just…" Beric leaned back in his chair. "Do you ever just want to walk away? Hang up your cuffs and leave this all behind."

"And do what? I've got nothing outside of this life. You, at least, have your hobbies, weird as they are, and you have Ramsay. Me… the job is all I've got."

"You could try," Beric said. "Get out there, make some friends, find some hobbies."

Sandor scoffed at the idea. "Been there, tried that, tossed out the t-shirt that proved it."

"At least get a pet, man. Something to come home to, something to take care of." Beric sat upright. "Speaking of, is it bothering you as well that we can't find the dog?"

Sandor nodded. "Yeah. The dogsitter didn't have her. Detective Payne said Lady followed her sister everywhere, so she should have stayed with the body… if she was in the apartment. Dogs are fucking loyal, so if someone was attacking her mistress, the dog would have protected her. I mean, look at this dog. She's bred to guard, to protect. Looks like she's half-wolf, for fuck's sake." Sandor held up the photo of Lady they had taken from the crime scene. "A gentle one, but if someone was attacking her mistress, she'd likely be out for blood. There was no sign of the dog even _being_ there when the murder happened."

"She'll turn up. I already sent out a notice to all the animal shelters in the city and the surrounding districts. She's chipped, according to Payne, so if she turns up in any of them, we'll know about it."

"Still…" Sandor dropped the photo of Lady back into the file folder and picked up one of Sansa. She was smiling. Even from a photo, he could tell she just enjoyed life. He wondered what it would have been like to have experienced just one day with her.

"Hey…" Beric said, interrupting him. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

Beric looked concerned. "Just… the look you had right now."

"What about it?"

Beric shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind. I'll call the two older brothers, you call the two younger ones."

**********

"It's late, man, go home. Sleep. And eat some real food." Beric clapped Sandor on the back. "Not that crappy Pentoshi takeout _again."_

"Fuck you, you're not my mom."

Beric chuckled. "You'd be so lucky. Night, Sandy."

"Night, Ber."

As soon as Beric had left the bullpen and was out of sight, Sandor pulled Sansa's journal from his desk drawer and opened it up to a bookmarked page. He didn't want to admit it to Beric, but he had read the entire thing the previous night. Twice. Even more than that, he didn't want to admit that he had read it while laying on the couch in Sansa's apartment, as well as the fact that he had slept there. Again.

He had used colored sticky note flags to mark things of interest, but it was the more personal entries he was rereading at the moment. The ones about her days, her nights, her thoughts. She chirped a lot to her journal. _Like a little singing bird._ She referred to someone as "the lonely knight". Whoever it was, she was watching him from afar. There were zero clues as to who it was, just that she was concerned about him, that she thought about him often, read about him in the newspaper. She wanted to approach him, but couldn't get the courage to do so. _She must have had quite the crush on him to not be able to talk to him, considering how fearless she was in the rest of her life._ He particularly enjoyed the passages about her taking Lady to the dog park. It almost made him want to get a dog, like Beric had suggested. Sansa hadn't been in a relationship except for Joffrey, which she later described as a poor distraction from her Lonely Knight.

_I never should have deterred from LK, even if it is an unrequited crush,_ she wrote. _I only end up disappointed. He probably is a horrible person in real life, so it is better to never approach him, isn't it?_

Sandor snorted. The entry was from just after she had broken up with Joffrey Baratheon. Oddly enough, even during the beginning of their relationship, when feelings tended to run hot and passionate, she had written little about him, only mentioning that they had gone out. Those entries had had more information on the places and food than her feelings toward the golden boy.

_And yet… I will approach him. I WANT to approach him. I must. I cannot continue this from afar. Once I am done with ===per,_

The ink had smudged there, making it impossible for Sandor to know who she was referring to, though he doubted it was Joffrey since she was already done with him.

_Once I am done with ===per, I will approach LK, and ask him out to dinner. Coffee. Breakfast? Something! I vow to do it!!!_

Sandor sighed. He envied the Lonely Knight. The man had never known he had Sansa Stark's affection, but maybe it was better that way. "It would only be a missed chance for the fucker now," he muttered to himself. Stuffing the journal into his coat pocket, he gathered his things and left the station.

**********

After walking the city streets for what felt like hours, Sandor found himself back at the apartment again. _Her_ apartment. He let himself in with the key the super had given him and shut the door behind him. The restlessness inside him began to calm down as the gentle scent of lemon blossom enveloped him.

He picked up a framed photo of Sansa and her dog from the ornate cabinet in the hallway, and sat on the couch, staring at it. _Should have asked for your number when I saved you four years ago. Maybe we could have been… friends. Nothing more, but friends would have been nice. You weren't interested in any of the beautiful men already in your life. Definitely wouldn't be interested in an old, scarred dog like me. Maybe if we were friends, this wouldn't have happened to you. Maybe I could have saved you. Maybe not. We'll never know, will we…_

He stared at the photo, this time concentrating on the dog. Her father and sister had both said Sansa never went anywhere without Lady if she could help it. And Lady would never leave Sansa's side if she didn't have to. _So where's Lady now?_

Sleep finally took hold of him. His eyes slowly closed as he set the picture to the side.

**********

His phone woke him. He groggily answered, “What?”

_“Where are you? I just went by your apartment. I was bringing you breakfast. Are you ok?”_ Beric, mother of hounds. Or just the one Hound.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Sleeping over at… a woman's place. Pretty sure she's gonna kick me out once she gets a good look at me.” _If she was alive and not our homicide victim,_ he thought.

_“Ah, well, at least you're not mooning over the Stark girl then."_ He paused. _"Uh, it's not a redhead, is it? Because that's a little messed up. And that's ME saying that.”_

“I am not mooning over-- Is there anything else you need or can I get back to sleep?” he growled. He turned his head when he heard a key in the front door. He stood up to face the intruder.

_“Oh, right. Olenna just called me. She'd like to talk to us, but get ready for this.”_

The door opened and Sandor froze. “Sansa Stark isn't dead.”

_“Uh… Yeah, how'd you know?”_

“Because I'm looking right at her.”

“Detective Clegane! What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.


	5. Chapter 5

He was sitting in the kitchen, while Sansa made coffee for both of them. Beric was on his way, and Sandor only hoped he would overlook the fact that Sandor had basically been squatting in a dead woman's apartment. Or rather, a woman they thought was dead. Her dog, Lady, had decided Sandor's thigh was the perfect pillow and was resting her head on it. She kept looking up at him with pleading eyes, until Sandor eventually gave in and petted her head. If dogs could purr, he suspected this one would be doing so right now.

"And it's ok for us to still be here?" she asked, setting the coffee down carefully on the table and then retrieving the creamer and sugar.

"Yeah, it's fine. You won't be able to stay here, but for the moment, it's fine.

“I assume your presence and the police tape on my door mean that something happened?” she asked softly. He gripped his coffee mug a little too tightly. “I also assume Ros is no longer with us as well, seeing as you are a homicide detective.”

“Good deduction. Your sister mentioned you're something of a sleuth."

She chuckled, staring at her coffee as she stirred it absentmindedly. “Yeah, something like that.”

He took a sip of the coffee, savoring the rich taste. “Who was she then?”

She looked up. “Ros Snow is a friend, sort of. We were closer to acquaintances, really, but she was so warm and open, it felt like we were closer than the reality of it. She's from my hometown of Winterfell, needed a place to crash for a few days. She showed up while I was on getting ready to go. I had to take an emergency trip to Pentos, um, business related, so I told her to make herself at home and to leave the keys in the mail slot if she left before I got back. She was here for a job.”

“You always so nice to acquaintances?”

She smiled. “She's good friends with people I trust. I knew the most she would do was get drunk and maybe destroy a lamp or three.”

“What else can you tell me? Family? Enemies? Boyfriend?”

“She was an orphan. Single, I believe. My brother's friend, Theon Greyjoy, would be able to tell you more. They were...well acquainted. Intimately.”

“But not dating?”

She shook her head.

“Right, Theon Greyjoy, fuck buddy to Ros Snow,” he said as he wrote in his notebook. He grinned but didn't look up when Sansa choked on her coffee from laughter.

“Well, I suppose that is a very _apt_ way of describing it,” she said, getting up and cleaning herself with a paper towel.

“I just call it like I see it.”

She smiled and leaned against the counter. “I am aware.” Her smile faded as she asked, “Detective, what exactly happened to her?”

“You really want that in that pretty head of yours?” She blushed but nodded with determination. “Ok… On the night of the seventh, someone knocked on the door, someone she let in. They attacked her immediately with a shotgun, mostly to her face, making her unrecognizable. I haven't heard the final autopsy report, but we have confirmed that she was raped after she was attacked…” He stopped when she turned and threw up in the sink.

Sandor sighed and got up. He found a cup and filled it from the tap. He handed it to her once she stopped retching, leaving the water running to wash away the puke. “Sorry…” she murmured, her voice hoarse, and accepted the plastic cup, drinking eagerly from it.

“Don’t be. Everyone reacts differently. I had one guy puke, faint into his puke, then puke again while unconscious. It was a mess.” Beric had caught some of the second spewing on his pants. It was one of the few times he had heard the usually stoic man curse like a sailor.

She smiled, not quite believing him, but that was fine. She was feeling a little better, and that was what he cared about. _Fuck. I’m doomed._ "Everyone believes it was you that was killed," he said.

"Do they?" she asked in genuine surprise. "But my fingerprints and DNA wouldn't have matched hers."

"We only just got the results this morning. My partner was telling me right as you walked through the door. Those tests were put at the bottom of the list of importance, since she was found in your apartment, dressed in your bathrobe, and has similar enough features to yours. We all just assumed it was you." He felt like kicking himself for having to tell her that.

"Oh, I suppose that makes sense… terrible shame, since you've wasted so much time looking for someone who wanted to kill me instead of her--"

"Not necessarily," he interrupted her. She raised an eyebrow at him. "From all the information we've gathered, whoever killed her thought she was you as well. The light in your foyer is out. If the killer attacked immediately, then that means they probably didn't see Miss Snow's face before blowing it off with the shotgun. You only have two neighbors on this floor, both of which were not home at the time, and while loud, the sound of gunfire is not something most people could distinguish from loud city noises. The people on the floor above and below you thought it was a truck backfiring and didn't investigate it."

"I think I'm going to be sick again…" she said, sitting down again. "Are you sure?"

"No one knew she was here, no one knew you were gone, except your sister and the dogsitter."

"Oh! Oh, no… My family, do they know…?"

"Your family was contacted the same day the murder was discovered. Your sister has been helping where she can with the investigation, serving as a liaison between us and your family."

She got up from the table, "I have to call them--"

"Please leave that to us, little bird," he said, gently pushing her back into her chair. "We'll make sure they are told, but we need to keep it quiet."

"I…" She blinked, giving him a look of surprise. "But…"

"Whoever killed Miss Snow thinks they killed you. If they find out you're still alive, you could be in danger again."

"Oh… I hadn't thought of that." She turned her eyes down and muttered, "Still a naive little girl."

"You'll have to be put into protective custody. I know a few female officers that will be--"

"Can't you do it?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She blushed. "I mean… you already know, and… I trust you… It makes sense for you to protect me, doesn't it?"

"I suppose I am adequate for the task, but…" Sandor stopped. Sansa Stark was alive, and asking _him_ to protect her. It was a literal dream come true. _Maybe it doesn't have to end the same way my nightmares do._ "I'll see what I can do." The smile she gave him made it worth the headache it would be to arrange it.

**********

When Beric arrived, he gave Sandor a suspicious glance, but greeted Sansa formally, telling her how glad he was that she was alive.

“Yes, well, I just wish it hadn't been at Ros’s expense,” she replied softly.

“We will be putting forth the same effort for her as we did you. We will find the killer, Miss Stark." He took a seat next to Sandor at the kitchen table.

"Detective Clegane tells me that whoever killed her likely thought she was me," Sansa said, biting her lip in concern.

"Yes, unfortunately. Is it possible that one of the partners to the people you help at the shelter found you?"

She shook her head. "It's possible, but highly improbable. I go to great lengths to protect myself from those abusers. If they found my apartment… I truly have no idea how they did it. There should be video of the front door."

"Unfortunately, the camera had been damaged a week prior, and your super hadn't fixed it yet. I checked before coming up here." Beric glared at Sandor pointedly, which Sandor studiously ignored.

Sansa sighed, not noticing either men's reaction. "I'm not surprised. Mr. Hollard is not the most _dedicated_ to his job. I'm going to be moving as soon as my lease is up, someplace with a doorman that is on duty twenty-four hours a day," she grumbled, taking a sip of her coffee. "The coded entry to the building is only as good as the people who protect their passcodes, and don't let strangers come in when they enter or leave the building."

Sandor didn't have anything to say about that, since he had been using Sansa's passcode to get into the building, which he had given by Mr. Hollard. Sansa repeated to Beric what she had told to Sandor about Ros Snow. "We didn't find a suitcase for her," Beric noted.

"She showed up with a backpack, old, greying, covered in peace signs, and that was it. Ros is very much a free spirit," Sansa said. Sandor vaguely recalled seeing it in the bedroom. He had searched it, but found only a change of clothes in it. He had assumed it was a workout bag or something similar. "I told her to help herself to my closet as well, which is probably why she was wearing my things when…" She trailed off. "I am taller, but we have a similar body type."

"Why were you in Pentos, Miss Stark?" he asked. "And why have you not been in contact with anyone?"

"Oh! Well…" She brought out her phone. The screen was cracked beyond repair. "It happened on the way to the airport. I didn't have time to get a replacement. My trip was a secret as well, the less who knew about it, the better, so I didn't reach out while I was gone. As to why I went to Pentos… I believe it may be why someone wanted me dead." She took a deep breath. "I was investigating."

"Investigating?" Beric asked. "Investigating what?"

Sansa grimaced. "The, um, Ripper Copycat."

"I'm sorry… _what?!"_ Beric yelled, standing up from the table. If it was rare to hear Beric curse, it was even rarer to see him get mad. _"What were you thinking--"_

"Beric! Calm down!" Sandor said, pulling the man back down to his seat. Lady had gone to Sansa's side and was growling at Beric. "I'm sure she doesn't mean it like that."

Sansa shook her head. "No, I do."

Beric was about to start in on her again, but Sandor cut her off. "If you have information on the case, you need to give it to the FBI."

"Don't you think I tried that??" she asked. "They dismissed my concerns! I am just an overbearing bitch who sees male enemies around every corner," she said bitterly. "They wouldn't even tell the head of the investigation that I might have a lead."

Sandor frowned. It sounded like someone in the Bureau needed to go over basic protocols with the low level agents on the case. _Granted, it might have been some of our own officers that got too full of themselves when they were assigned to the FBI task force._ "Tell us what you suspected, what you've learned."

Sansa reached down, pulled up the messenger bag she had been carrying when she entered the apartment, and pulled out a stack of files. "This is everything I've got. I started making notes more than a year ago. I suspected that a man in the shelter was tricking the men and women into prostitution."

"Oh, yes, 'Mint Man', Petyr Baelish," Sandor said, pulling the first folder to him.

"Uh… yes, that's correct. His financial support has been integral to the progress we've made at the shelter, but I suspect that he only did it because I caught him in his lie. He did it to save face, among other things." She looked like she was biting her tongue to keep from saying more.

"Like get in your pants? Tommen Baratheon suspected that part as well. Helpful kid. He's very protective of you."

Sansa smiled. "Yes, Tommen is a good boy. He and his sister are both sweethearts." She blushed from embarrassment. "I suspect he is a bit in love with me, actually. Always used his sister as an excuse to hang out with me. Not that he needed it, but I suppose it made him feel a bit better about it, considering everything. Anyway, as I was saying, I suspected Mr. Baelish of using his support as a way to lure people into prostitution. I took a look into his financials once he became a supporter of the shelter, and there is no way he could afford everything with the money he made from Titan Exotics Studios. The business barely supports itself and his lifestyle. He obviously had another source of income, one that wasn't being kept on the books, or at least not the ones he showed the government. That lead me to… _befriending_ him." She shuddered a little. "He is detestable, but a little flattery goes a long way with him. He sees what he wants to see, and I was able to get close enough to find out that he has a safe in his home office."

The way she hesitated gave Sandor a sudden sinking feeling. "And…?"

"I waited until he was out of town on business, and I… I broke into his house," she said in a rush. Sandor felt an odd sense of relief at her words. "I found the safe, broke into that with a technique Arya taught me years ago, and found… this." She handed them another folder. "This has the names of every man and woman who sells their bodies illegally in this town, how much they earn, notes on if he had 'sampled' them himself. Some were more recent to the game, and as far as I can tell their 'profession' wasn't known, so they were classified as such. I made copies and put everything back as I found it. Then I ran down a few of them to confirm, and found what I was looking for."

"Why didn't you turn this over to the police?" Beric asked, looking through the list.

"Because of what I found at the back, a second list." She flipped through the pages. "Here, this list, the names on it are scratched out on the other one, and every single one of them is dead. Victims of the Ripper."

Sandor and Beric both stared at her. "You're sure?" Sandor asked.

She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "I triple checked each and every single one. This was last week. That's when I went to the task force, and when I was turned away."

"And the trip to Pentos?"

"It was actually a roundabout way to get to Braavos. In case it was discovered, I wanted there to be _some_ doubt. I chartered the plane under a false name, and paid extra to bring Lady with me. I have the documentation here. I had originally intended to leave her with my upstairs neighbor, but when I couldn't reach him, I realized it was better to take her with me for extra protection. She may look like a fluff ball, but she's very good at being a guard dog. Once my plane landed in Pentos, I hopped a ship that took me straight to Braavos and the Temple of Black and White."

"Sin Cara…" Sandor mumbled. Sansa's head whipped up in an almost comical manner to stare at him. "That means 'without a face' in the native Dornish tongue, doesn't it? You went to see the Faceless."

"Yes…" she said, unable to look away from him. "That's right… My sister had a mentor in her time at the Academy, a Braavosi man. He spoke to her about them, they're some of the best detectives in the entire world, able to blend in with anyone and find the truth, but they are very expensive and will only deal with clients in person. I was only there for a consultation, to confirm my findings so that the FBI would _have_ to listen to me."

"And did you find the answer you sought?" Beric asked.

"Yes…" She pushed the remainder of the files towards them. "Everything is there, as well as a signed document from the Faceless, confirming everything. Petyr Baelish is the Ripper. In addition to that, the Faceless I met with also proved that there is a leak in the FBI task force. Someone is feeding information to Baelish, and if he knew I was onto him, he must have killed Ros, thinking she was me."


	6. Chapter 6

"For now, we will only tell our captain, your parents, and your siblings the truth," Beric said. "I will continue in the investigation into Miss Snow's murder. The proof is here that Baelish is the Ripper, but not that he killed Miss Snow. As per your request…" The face he made showed that he did not agree with it. "Detective Clegane will be your protective detail. You cannot stay in this apartment. We are fortunate that no one saw you come in, but we need to sneak you out."

"I'll take care of that," Sansa said. "I can go unseen when I need to."

"Very well. I'll be going. Keep out of sight, and don't leave Clegane's side if you can help it. I'll be checking in regularly." Beric gave Sandor a stern look before leaving.

Once he was gone, Sansa asked, "How did you know? About Mint Man and Sin Cara?"

"Oh… uh, that…"

"Because I only ever wrote those names in my diary," she said, tilting her head a little to look at him. "And I kept that in a very secret place."

"It was on a bookshelf…" he said weakly.

"Disguised as another book," she said. She put her hands on her waist. "A book _designed_ to not attract attention. So, tell me, Detective, why were you in my bedroom, when there was no reason to suspect the killer had been in there, and why did you pick up a copy of Robert's Rules of Order? Or are you particularly fascinated by the way a meeting should be properly conducted?"

"I… uh…" He couldn't tell her that he had picked up and looked through every single book, every box, every place that could hide something, in the entire apartment, hoping to find something, desperate to find a piece, a clue she had left behind.

She sighed, giving up on getting an answer from him. "You will tell me eventually, Detective. But for now, you have earned a reprieve."

"Thank you, little bird…" he said in relief, his insides warming from the kind smile she gave him.

**********

"Why do you have so many wigs?" he asked. He had wondered about it previously, but now that she was here and alive, he could get an answer.

"To hide myself in plain sight," she said, adjusting the dull brown wig on her head. She had already put in colored contacts that changed her bright blue eyes to greenish-brown, and was about to apply makeup to change the contours of her face. It was just small changes, but once she was done, she looked like a completely different person. "When I said I took precautions against people finding me because of my work at the shelter, I was not joking. I can walk down any street or alley and no one would suspect it was me. Well, Arya might, but she's clever like that. She taught me most of my tricks."

"Interesting that she also taught you how to break into a safe as well."

Sansa shrugged, applying some eyeliner to change the shape of her eyes slightly. "She says to catch a crook, you need to think like a crook, and what better way than to know what a crook knows." She put a pair of horn rimmed glasses on. "There, all done. We can go now."

"We're taking the service elevator, just to be on the safe side." Sansa nodded and followed him with Lady close behind her.

**********

Sandor called Arya Payne, asking her to meet him at his apartment. "It's about the case," he told her, "Extremely sensitive information."

He had barely gotten Sansa into the apartment when there was a knock at the door. He motioned for her to take Lady into the bedroom and waited until she had closed the door to answer. Arya was tapping her foot impatiently. "'Bout damn time. You gonna let me in or not?" Sandor stepped aside and let her in. He checked outside to see if anyone was watching before closing and locking the front door. "So what's with all the secrecy? Why didn't you just ask me to meet you at your station?"

"Because this isn't something we can let people know just yet. The less who are informed about this, the better." He went over to the bedroom and opened the door. "Come on out."

Lady ran out first, followed by a suddenly shy Sansa. She had discarded the wig and hastily wiped off the makeup that had changed her facial structure. "Arya…"

The younger sister was a blur as she flew across the room to hug Sansa, sobbing hysterically as the redhead held her. "You're alive you're alive you're _alive…"_

"Arya…" Sansa said, pulling away enough to look her sister in the eyes. "I am so sorry about this…"

Arya wiped the tears and snot from her face. "But _how?_ I saw the crime scene photos…"

"It wasn't me," Sansa said sadly. "Ros came to me. You remember her? Theon and Jon's friend. She needed a place to stay. She had a job interview in town. I let her stay in my apartment, told her to make herself at home… It was her that was…" She shuddered. "If I had been there…"

"Hey, don't say that. And don't go feeling guilty about it either. It's not something that could have been helped. If you're going to feel anything, feel anger towards the bastard who took Ros from this world," Arya growled.

Sansa nodded.

"So what happens next? I assume she's in your protective custody now?" Arya asked, turning to Sandor.

"Yeah, she'll be staying here for the time being. Got an extra room and I can easily defend this place, should the situation call for it. Beric's continuing on with the investigation." Sandor had a sudden thought. "Maybe you could join him as a temporary partner? It'd keep you in the loop, and would be a big help."

"It would have to be a formal request from your captain to mine, but considering Sansa's alive and kicking, it shouldn't be a problem."

**********

Arya stayed with Sansa while Sandor took some time to go to the store. They were going to skype with their parents while he was gone. Before leaving, he asked Sansa for a list of things she would need while in hiding and he was surprised to find a section on her list contained actual groceries. He had just been intending to get heat-and-eat stuff, but if she was asking for specific stuff, he didn't see why he shouldn't, even if it was more expensive than his usual budget.

_Don't kid yourself. You'd spend your entire life savings on the woman, you moron,_ he thought to himself as he paid the cashier. Tommen Baratheon's words echoed in his mind. _Sansa was very much one of a kind. Easily worth all the money in the Seven Kingdoms._ Sandor grimaced as he realized how right the young Baratheon was, and how stupid he was to be behaving as he was. _She'll never see you as you want her to, as you see her. Just as well. A woman like her deserves the world, and all you can offer her is an empty fridge and an emptier life._

**********

"I am so sorry, Detective," Sansa said once her sister had left. The younger woman had left before Sandor had gotten all the groceries in the door. Sandor suspected she hadn't wanted to be pushed into helping put them away.

"It's fine, little bird, didn't expect any help with putting things away to be honest. I'm sorry your sister left because she thought I did."

Sansa took the boxes of pasta from him, as well as some cans of food, and put them in the pantry. "Well, that too, but I mean, I'm sorry I forgot to give you some money to help pay for it all. I was the one requesting it, so I should have contributed--"

He barked a laugh, surprised that that was what she had been worried about. "It wasn't a bother," he said. Even if he had been grumbling about money when he paid, he hadn't actually meant it. He was so used to paying peanuts to feed himself, anything more was considered "extravagant."

"Still…" She bit her lip in worry. "Next time, I will pay the full grocery bill, I promise."

"Whatever floats your boat. So, what is all this stuff for?"

She blushed a deep red. "Um… well, I thought, since you're being so kind as to protect me, I should at least do something in return, and a home cooked meal seemed like a good place to start."

"Oh…" That sounded really good to Sandor's ears and stomach. _Now that I think about it, I haven't had anything to eat since lunch yesterday._

"I'm not much of a cook, but something simple… I think I can manage that."

"Ah, well… I think I have some pans and pots around here… Beric gave them to me, said I needed to have something in case I needed it… probably still in the packaging now that I think about it…" He rubbed the back of his head nervously. "I'm not anything of a cook. Only ever used one of the pots, and that was to boil water." He didn't want to say it for sad little meals of ramen.

She laughed, her cheeks still a little red. "Maybe we can try to make a meal together then. That way, if we mess up, it's neither of our faults."

**********

Before lunch, Beric called to tell Sandor that Margaery Tyrell had been given the information Sansa had collected and had had verified, and she was livid that someone on her team had turned the information away in the first place. _"She sends her regrets that Miss Stark had to go through all of that, but also thanks her and promises to sheshkabab whoever broke protocol on that. She can't make a move to arrest him until they find the leak that's been providing him intel. Oh, and thanks for the new partner. She's more competent than I originally imagined. She's getting donuts for me as we speak."_ Sandor rolled his eyes, knowing Beric was likely sitting in the car while Arya was in one of the longest lines just for donuts. Fantastic donuts, but still just donuts.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't go replacing me with her. She's only on loan."

There was silence for a moment, then, _"How are you holding up?"_

"I'm fine?" Sandor said, confused by the question. _Better than fine,_ he thought, since he was getting along well with his charge. "Why?"

_"Because you were going down a slippery slope when you thought she was dead,"_ Beric said quietly.

"I don't know what you're talkin--"

Beric scoffed. _"I'm sure you don't, but let me inform you, you've been acting off ever since we got this case. If I didn't know better… well, actually, I do know better, and I still think it. You have feelings for Miss Stark, and you have since day one. Now she's 'back from the dead', so to speak, and I can only imagine what might be going through that thick skull of yours."_ Beric sighed loudly. _"I just don't want you getting hurt, that's all. I know you think you know her, maybe even love her, but you barely know her at all."_

"I wouldn't presume she'd be interested even if I did 'love her' as you seem to think I do," Sandor said coldly, his good mood vanished into thin air.

_"Sandy…"_

"Don't 'Sandy' me, Dondarrion. I am well aware of my appeal to women or lack thereof. I don't need a reminder." He didn't care how bitter he sounded.

_"I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just worried about you. Can you blame me? You've been showing the classic signs of a man in love, but the woman in question was supposedly dead until this morning."_

"I have to go. Keep me informed."

**********

"Detective, is everything alright? You seem agitated." Sansa peered at him from her perch on the sofa. She was reading one of the few books he had available, while Sandor was sitting at the table nearby, painfully aware of how little there was to do in his apartment. "You've huffed three times in the last five minutes," she offered as an explanation.

"Sorry… just… this place isn't really for _living,_ you know?" He looked around the sparse room. "Don't even have a TV."

"You're a bit of a workaholic, aren't you?" she asked, giving him a kind smile. He nodded. "It's understandable. Your work is your life, your life is your work. I'm like that, too."

"Your apartment is the literal exact opposite of mine," he pointed out.

She laughed. "Only because my mother and my friend Myrcella insisted on having it decorated! The study, where my home office is, that's my space, where my mark is. Wall to wall with books, research, notes… If I didn't have my family and friends, I would probably live in a similar place as yours. Despite how it seems, I'm not a very outgoing person. You know, I think you are the first person to even sit on that couch I found you on."

"What about Joffrey Baratheon?" He wanted to kick himself, especially when her smile fell from her face.

"Ah, well… I suppose you could say he was an experiment."

She looked so forlorn that Sandor had to ask, "What do you mean?"

She gave him a sad smile. "I was trying to be the person everyone expected me to be. And that person dated someone like Joffrey. I acted the part of the smitten girlfriend, the lost in love fiancée… but that wasn't me. When I found out Joff was cheating on me… it gave me the out I had been looking for." She shrugged. "I wanted to run away, but I was a coward. I'm always a coward."

"The people at the shelter don't seem to think so."

That got her to smile. "That's different. It's not for me that I fight, so it's easier."

"So… I guess the Lonely Knight you wrote about is really more your speed than a guy like Baratheon?"

She looked up in surprise, then nodded, smiling again. "Yes, I suppose he is."

"Lucky fellow," Sandor said, "Hope you get the courage to ask him out."

Sansa nodded again. "Me, too. But, in the meantime, we need to make sure we don't drive each other insane. Stakeouts, going into hiding, both require a steady sort of stimuli. I've only ever done stakeouts before, and it was by myself, so… I don't know what it's like with someone else. I usually just listened to podcasts."

"You did stakeouts?" He suddenly remembered she had given an odd answer when he asked her about being a sleuth.

"Yeah… the thing about the shelter is that it's just one point in the survivor's life. In order to get away from their abusers, it takes more. So I started investigating them, gathering evidence, taking that evidence to the lawyers involved, helping build cases against them." She sighed and slid down a bit into the cushions. "It made me feel… worthwhile."

"You didn't before that?"

She gave a mirthless laugh. "I am not someone that people expect to do worthwhile things, detective. I was expected to look pretty, be perfect, and marry well. My whole life, I was treated as a princess, but I was never really happy. Arya, my brothers… they were given the freedom to choose. I was my mother's first born daughter, the one she held up to higher standards. I tried. I really did. But I was just never… whole. When I was in high school, I contemplated suicide." She looked up at him and must have seen the alarm in his eyes. "I didn't make an attempt, but the thoughts were there. I just… I went through life without really _living,_ you know. And then, it was my final year of college. There was a series of speakers my school was hosting, and I went to all of them. It counted as extra credit in one of my courses. It was all very inspirational, motivational… until the last one. I mean, he was very inspirational as well, but… it was the only one that really spoke to me personally."

"Who was it?" The situation was starting to sound more and more familiar to Sandor.

"Veteran detective Barristan Selmy, and he was accompanied by an unnamed officer with a burn scar on half his face."

"Thought that's where this was going," he said with an amused sigh. "So you knew me even before the riots?"

"Well… I knew you by sight, and not much else about you. No, wait, I take that back, I also knew I didn't have to be afraid of you. Detective Selmy is an old friend of my father's, though I had only heard stories of him. If he had you following him around, he likely saw good things in your future as a cop. At least, that's what my father said."

"And how did Selmy's speech help you?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "How did he help you find your worth?"

"Mmmm… well, that's a little harder to answer, but when he asked, 'Are you making the world a better place, or are you making it worse? I'd like to remind you, that if you're doing nothing, that's making it worse,' it really struck a chord in me. It made me angry, at first. How dare this man judge me when he doesn't even know me, and then… I started volunteering. Out of spite, I might add. Everyone had always told me I was a good person, but I never really acted like one? It's hard to describe that. So I was going to prove to him that I was not making the world a worse place, and somewhere in the midst of helping in order to spite this man, I started to enjoy it. The helping, not the spite. Along the way, I started to pick up on things. I had always been good at reading people, so I started really paying attention and trying to use that to my advantage."

"This still doesn't explain how you got so good at investigation."

"Ah, well, it started small things, lost toys and such, and then, a friend suspected her boyfriend was cheating… and then it kind of just went from there. I read up on the subject, though I didn't keep any of the books. Arya would have lectured me until my ears fell off if she knew."

"I can imagine. She's very protective and it's dangerous work," he said. It wasn't a judgement, just a fact.

She nodded. "She has been teaching me to defend myself, how to shoot a gun, and I also started taking lessons in karate. I take every precaution I can."

"Your sister knew about parts of it?"

"Yes, but she thought it was because of my job at the shelter, and not because I was tracking lowlifes for evidence." Sansa set aside the book she had been reading. "To tell you the truth, I have been thinking of quitting the shelter and getting a license to be a private investigator."

"Big jump."

She shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Won't know until I tried." She gave him a shy glance. "Maybe… I could come to you? If I need help?"

"I'd be happy to help you, little bird."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is the last chapter I have that is completely finished. Currently working on the next one, but I don't know if I'll have it done in time to post tomorrow. :( The remainder of the story will be posted sporadically.


	7. Chapter 7

It took the FBI  two days to find the person reporting back to Petyr Baelish, and then another three days to get all their ducks in a row to finally take him and his entire empire down. Sandor didn't mind that so much, since it meant five days in close quarters with Sansa. What he did mind was the fact that Beric and Arya hadn't found anything connecting Baelish to the murder.  _ "He conclusively is not our murderer," _ Beric told him after the raid on Titan Exotics was done.  _ "He had no idea that Sansa was on to him at all. The person who turned her away was Meryn Trant, and he only did it because it was 'too much of a headache' to deal with her. The leak was a patrol officer that was acting as a gofer for the people in charge. She was able to overhear and spy without being noticed." _

"So where does this leave me?" Sansa asked after Beric had reported in. "As much as I've enjoyed our time together, I'd really like to be able to go for a walk outside sometime."

Sandor's house had been transformed in the time Sansa had been living with him. Five days and it had become much more livable. A medium sized TV and a Roku had been purchased. So had internet and subscriptions to various streaming services. Sandor had also brought in curtains for the bare windows, saying that it was better to hide her with them. Even though Arya had brought over some of Sansa's clothing, Sandor didn't ask for the clothing he had lent her on her first night staying with him and she didn't offer them back. Another bed had been bought and placed in the guest room that had previously only had a treadmill in it. Before that, Sandor had given up his bed to Sansa and had been sleeping on the couch. It had taken exactly four hours and twenty-one minutes of lying down on his couch before he decided a second bed was needed. 

It had also taken Sansa only twenty minutes into the first movie they watched on Netflix to get comfortable enough to lean on Sandor. He wasn't even sure how the movie ended, he had been so confused and wondering what in the hells he was supposed to be doing that he hadn't paid attention at all to what was going on. The second movie had been a little easier. The more they binge watched, the easier it got. Then Arya had brought over her old Playstation 3. It was interesting to hear Sansa trash talk him. She was really bad at it, which was hilarious, but she was really good at the actual game play. And the five days also gave him a chance to just talk to her. She was not like he had expected, but also exactly as he had hoped. It only took one day for him to know he was hopelessly in love with her. 

He thought about her question. "I have no idea, little bird. Beric and your sister are coming over later to talk about it."

**********

"Arya!" they both heard from the other room. Beric and Sandor turned their heads to see that Sansa was hissing something at her sister, while Arya was laughing her head off.

"So lively in here," Beric murmured. "Rather like it."

"You're not the one cooped up in the house." 

"You're enjoying yourself, despite the situation," Beric said with a snort.

Sandor snorted right back. "Shows what you know, I was referring to Miss Stark. Can't be easy for her." 

"Oh, it's Miss Stark now. What happened to 'little bird'?"

"Fuck off." Sandor took a swig of his water to cover his embarrassment. He hadn't realized that Beric had heard him call Sansa that. It had been bad enough when he realized he was calling her a pet name  _ and _ that she was ok with it. "So… what's next?"

"We've run down every lead possible," Beric sighed. "Whoever it is… it's like they committed the perfect murder."

"No one is perfect, especially when it comes to crime. I have an idea. It's a long shot, and it's risky, but… it might work," Arya said, dragging Sansa into the kitchen to join the men. 

"And what's that, little wolf?" Beric asked.

Arya took a deep breath. "We set a trap, with Sansa as the bait."

_ "Fuck no," _ Sandor hissed. "She could be killed!"

"You think I don't know that?? That's my  _ sister, _ and we just got her back! But we have exhausted every other lead! If you have a better idea, than I'd really like to hear it!"

Sansa took a seat beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Sandor…" 

"No, we can't. Not if your life--"

"It will be ok," she said softly, leaning into him. 

"You don't know that."

"I do know that. Because you'll be with me. And you won't let anyone hurt me, will you?"

He grumbled, clamping his hands into tight fists. "No. No one will hurt you as long as I'm around. Fine, but if this ends badly, I'm holding you two responsible," he growled at Arya and Beric. 

*********

"A party? That's the big plan?" Sandor asked. "You've had two fucking days to think about this, and that's what you came up with?"

Arya shrugged. "It's the best way to get everyone in one spot. Mom is arranging it, since I'm shit at the frills bit, and Dad is taking care of the details like venue, guest list… whatever else goes with that…" 

"You're the worst rich girl I ever met. So is your sister for that matter."

Arya snorted a laugh. "Ha! Thanks. Sansa used to be a lot better about the whole 'rich girl' thing, but thank the gods she started to loosen up. Anyway, so this party, Mom and Dad are telling people it's to celebrate Sansa's life, but really, we're gonna surprise them with the fact that she's not actually dead. We watch for reactions, and keep an eye on Sansa, making sure she's not alone for even  _ one _ second." 

Sandor groaned. "I hate this plan. Too much can go wrong."

"We're gonna have to announce that she's alive at some point, and better to have a controlled environment than just popping that info loose. Plus, we'll be recording the entire thing, so as to not miss anything." Sandor was still grumbling. "Oh my gods, get _over_ it already. Maybe if you finally ask her out, you'll feel better about the damn plan."

Sandor sat up like a shot.  _ "What?!" _

Arya looked at him deadpan. "You heard me. Oh, I'm sorry. Did you think you were being discreet with your crush? Because, honestly, that's hilarious. You were definitely _not._ Everyone knows." 

"Fuck." Sandor looked over at the woman in question, who was listening to music on her new phone through headphones. "Even Sansa?" 

"Maybe. Probably not. She's kind of a dummy in that regard." Arya got up to stretch. "It's gonna be a fancy party. I'll have Mom send over some new threads for both of you. Maybe if you find your balls, you'll ask her to be your date to it." 

**********

"Little bird, are you rea--" Sandor stopped short when Sansa emerged from the second bedroom. She was beautiful in the normal everyday clothes he had gotten used to seeing her in, loose workout pants with his t-shirts that had mysteriously vanished from his closet and appeared in hers, her hair tied back in a ponytail or piled on top of her head in a loose bun. Now, in an elegant yellow gold evening gown, lacy, black gloves on her hands, her hair cascading down in flawless waves, she was heartbreakingly gorgeous. Like a goddess carved from stone and brought to life so that mere mortals like himself could bow and worship her. He was not one to believe in gods of any sort, but for her, he'd gladly offer himself up for sacrifice. 

"Do I look alright?" she asked, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.

Sandor nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I suppose that getup will do." The smile she gave him could have lit the entirety of Westeros.

"You look very handsome, by the way," she said, blushing. Sandor actually agreed with her on that. The black tuxedo with a black shirt and a matching yellow rose on his lapel made him much more striking than he normally was, but in a good way. "Just…" She gently pushed him down into a chair and stood behind him, pulling his hair back and tying it.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said, reaching to undo her work.

She stopped his hand. "No. It looks good like this. Don't you trust my judgement?" As much as he wanted to take his hair down, he could only nod and bask in the warmth of her smiles.

**********

They arrived after the guests and came in through the back door to the venue. Sansa wore a black fur-lined cloak and kept the hood of it up. No one was around, but Sandor didn't want to take a chance. He texted Arya to let her know they were in place for the big reveal, behind a curtain set up specifically for this.

**APayne: Got it. Telling mom. Dad's on his way to get her.**

Ned Stark pushed aside the curtain a few moments later. "Detective," Ned said, shaking Sandor's hand. "You have no idea how grateful we are that you've been watching over Sansa. You are her guardian angel--"

_ "Father!" _ Sansa said, blushing a deep red. "Please, don't embarrass m-- him. Don't embarrass him. Sandor knows how grateful we all are to him." She was holding onto his arm and looked up at him. "You do know, don't you?"

He nodded. "Best get this done with. I'll be behind you the entire time." Sansa took a deep breath and discarded her cloak to the table next to the entrance of the ballroom before taking his arm again. "You're gonna be fine, little bird," he whispered in her ear.

She blushed again and nodded. "I'm ready."

Ned gave Sansa a quick hug and went back out. They could hear him easily on the other side of the curtain. "Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us this evening in this celebration of my daughter Sansa. I have a big announcement, but it is better to show rather than to tell, so if you will direct your attention to the curtain behind me." 

Sansa's grip on Sandor's arm tightened. "Right behind me?" she asked.

He tucked her hair behind her ear. "Right behind you."

She nodded, let go of him, and walked out.


	8. Chapter 8

"I can't believe only three people fainted," Arya said later. The party was over, the guests had left, and only Sansa, her family, Sandor, and Beric were there. "Considering how many old ladies were there."

"I can't believe one of them was Tommen," Sansa said. "But once he came to, he was crying so much from happiness. Myrcella, too. She hugged me so hard that I nearly suffocated." She was smiling at the memory.

"Not just him, everyone was thrilled to see that you're alive." Sandor set a wine glass in front of Sansa and took the seat next to her. They were all sitting at one of the larger tables that had been rented for the party."They only had dessert wine left."

"That's fine, I rather like the sweetness of it." Sansa took a sip. "Oh, that really hit the spot. Chilled to perfection."

"It feels odd to be disappointed that no one stood out or tried to go after Sansa again," Catelyn said. She was running her hands through Sansa's hair, assuring herself that her daughter was indeed alive and there with her. Catelyn had been furious that she was only allowed to talk to Sansa through video chats until tonight, and Sandor had woken up with nightmares of her murdering him in his sleep for keeping her away from Sansa. It wasn't even him that made that rule, it had been Beric! 

"I honestly don't know how to proceed at this point," Beric said. "We can keep Sansa in protective custody, but other than that… It's not a permanent solution."

"As long as Detective Clegane is fine with protecting me, I am fine with staying in his custody," Sansa said, her face getting a bit red. She took a larger sip of her wine. "As long as I am not a bother, I mean."

"Of course you're not," Beric assured her. "He's got nothing but the job to occupy his time."

Sandor growled at Beric, but Sansa just giggled and patted his hand. "That makes me feel better about continuing to intrude into your home."

"Oh, but don't you want to go someplace nicer? A hotel, perhaps?" Catelyn asked. "You can come stay with us."

"Dear, it negates her being in protective custody if she's not with her protector," Ned chimed in. He had been silently listening and watching everyone. "It is best if Sansa stays with Clegane in his home. Selmy speaks highly of him. He won't let her or us down."

"But…" Catelyn sighed. "I know… I just… I want to keep you near me, my darling girl. To go from losing you, to finding out you're alive…" Catelyn sniffled as the tears began to well up in her eyes. Sandor handed her a crumpled tissue. "I just don't know what I would do if it happened again!" she wailed, blowing her nose into the tissue with a slight honk.

Ned was patting his wife on the back. "The gods watch over us all. She will be fine." 

Sandor hoped he was worthy of Ned Stark's confidence in him. 

**********

"Sandor…" Sansa said as they walked back into his house. "It isn't… I mean, I'm not a bother to you for being here… am I?" 

"No, little bird," he said. He hesitated before saying, "I rather enjoy spending time with you. I might… I mean, I  _ will _ miss having you around." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I'd… I'd like to see you again. After we close the case. If you want that… too…" His gaze was on the floor and his face was so hot it felt like it was melting off. She didn't say anything, but he couldn't move as he heard her draw closer to him. Her delicate arms encircled his waist as she hugged him and he thought he might die happy right there. 

"I would like that very much," she whispered to him.

**********

"Saaaaaannnnnnnsaaaaaaa!" 

Sandor winced at the high pitch. Now that her status of being alive was revealed, Sansa had finally gotten a replacement phone and it had been ringing constantly from both phone calls and text messages. Tommen Baratheon had invited Sansa to an early lunch, and as her protector, Sandor was forced to go with her. Truthfully, he didn't mind the outing, but he minded how Tommen kept looking at him curiously. They were seated at an outdoor patio, Sansa and Tommen at one table, and Sandor a few tables down. He could hear everything they said and see every angle, every possible approach by outsiders. No one was getting to the little bird without him knowing about it. 

"Why is Detective Clegane here?" Tommen asked in a staged whisper. 

Sansa laughed lightly. "He's just watching over me. Don't mind him. The case has yet to be closed, after all."

"Sooooooo, he's like, your bodyguard?"

"Yes. Father pulled some strings with Captain Selmy. Detective Clegane is former military, and is an ideal candidate for protecting me." Sansa looked over her shoulder at him, a light blush gracing her cheeks. "And, I trust him. He's my friend."

"Oh… ok. Well, let me catch you up on the shelter."

The two chatted for a while. Sandor pretended to enjoy a cup of coffee during that time, covertly taking notes on everyone that passed by, everyone that gave Sansa more than a glance. He groaned a little when he saw Myrcella Baratheon approach, carrying a boatload of shopping bags in each hand. She was a sweet person, possibly too sweet. He felt like he'd get a toothache from being around her too much. 

"Ohmigosh, you guys! Are you having brunch without me?" she asked. 

"Of course  _ not," _ Tommen said in a tight voice. With an equally tight smile, he asked, "Would you care to join us?" 

"Yes, I would  _ love _ that!" Myrcella didn't seem to notice that that was the last thing Tommen wanted. The conversation turned to fashion and celebrities, as well as the gossip in their social circle. An hour went by before Myrcella asked about his presence. "Did you know you're being followed?" she asked.

Sansa laughed. "It's a bit hard to miss him, isn't it? Don't worry, he's just here for my protection."

"Protection?" Myrcella tilted her head. "What do you mean? Are you still in danger?"

"The police don't know if I am or am not. They're still investigating and… well, as I told Tommen earlier, he is the best person to be my guard." Sansa took a sip of her water. "But, how is Trystane? I haven't heard you speak of him in a while."

"Oh, we broke up. He was fun, but not what I'm looking for in a life partner." She seemed wistful as she looked off into the distance. "My one true love is out there, I just know it."

"I do remember you having a crush on Robb, who is still single, I might add."

Myrcella giggled, her face turning a horrendous shade of red. "Oh, my, well… I suppose--"

"Sansa, would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow?" Tommen asked suddenly. 

"Oh, um, I suppose I could… Just realize that wherever I go, Detective Clegane will follow." Sansa reached for Tommen's hand, but he didn't notice and stood up, his eyes squeezed tight. Sandor suspected he was drawing on every ounce of courage he possibly could.

"I am sorry to say, he is  _ unfit _ for the establishment I wish to take you to," Tommen said loudly. Sandor would have been embarrassed if he didn't know it to be true. He just rolled his eyes instead. "I can be a suitable bodyguard for you, so that you don't have to--"

The sound of metal scraping concrete interrupted Tommen as Sansa pushed her chair back to stand up. "Tommen, you and I are  _ friends, _ so I will forgive you this once, but please do not speak ill of Sandor. As I said earlier, he is my friend now, and I won't tolerate disrespect to him." She straightened her blouse. "I decline the offer for dinner, and I will bid you both a good day. Sandor, let's go."

**********

Sansa was fuming on the ride back to Sandor's house. "The nerve of him! I thought he was raised better than that, to not insult people and… and… argggh!"

As adorable as her anger was, Sandor didn't want her to stay angry at her friend. "He wasn't saying that to be mean, you know."

"I know…" she grumbled. 

"He said it because he wanted you to himself."

"Wait, what?" she turned to face him. "All to himself?"

"You said it yourself, he's in love with you. It makes sense that he would want to lose the bodyguard so he can be alone with you. Especially on a date."

Sansa snorted, very unladylike. "Just as well that I turned him down. I am  _ not _ going on a date with him. He may not be like his brother, but it would be too weird. First, because he's Joffrey's younger sibling and I see him like my own baby brother, but second, he's too young, too immature. He sees only the surface of me, which I suppose is fine, but he never really bothered to get to know me, the real me. Not like… Not like you have." Her voice had dropped to a whisper. 

"Did I?" he asked, amused by her words.

She nodded. "I've told you things I've never revealed to another soul, not even Arya, who is the person I'm closest to."

"I thought Myrcella was your closest friend?" Sandor asked with a frown.

"Oh, I suppose you could say that. She is similar to Tommen in that she only knows the surface of who I am. Not her fault. She is a sweet girl who means well, but she's a bit vapid and most of our conversations are about trivial things." She sighed. "I had hoped that when I introduced her to Trystane, that he would bring out a more serious side to her. She seemed so taken with him at first…" She sat in silence, thinking, for several minutes. "I suppose I should apologize to Tommen. I did not think about it as him asking me out on a date." 

She fell silent again, but it was a comfortable silence between them. When he pulled his truck into the driveway and parked, she spoke again. 

"Do you think I could invite him over here? It would be easier on both of us. For you, protecting me, and for me, to let him down, tell him I'm not interested in him that way."

"If that's what you want, I'm alright with it. Thanks to you, this place looks less like a halfway house, so feel free to use it as you see fit." The potential torture he would suffer at dinner with Tommen Baratheon was worth the smile she gave him.

**********

"Quite a party you must be having," the cashier said to Sansa when they were checking out at the grocery store. "You and your husband must be lovely party hosts." The older woman, a constant pain in Sandor's side with her teasing,  _ knew _ that he was single, and threw a smirk in his direction. He scowled in return.

"Oh! I… um… it's just a small dinner party," Sansa said, blushing hard. "An apology to a friend of mine."

The cashier tut-tutted at Sansa. "Even if it's a dinner of two, it can be as grand a time as a royal ball, just as long as you enjoy the company!" she said. The infuriating woman kept smiling too brightly at Sandor as she bagged the groceries. "I hope you make up with your friend, and then have a lovely evening with your  _ husband." _

Sansa smiled weakly at the woman, blushing the entire time, while Sandor made threatening gestures to her. The cashier just kept smiling and waving at them until they left the store.

**********

"Ok, so, what do you think?" Sansa asked him. He had been finishing off the dish they were having for dinner while Sansa had been setting the small dining table they had purchased before going to the grocery store. It only seated four people, but it was enough for tonight and likely for any other night. 

"It looks like a set table."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I mean the centerpiece! Is it too much?"

In the center of the table was a vase Sansa had found buried in the kitchen cabinets, filled with wildflowers from the backyard. "Eh, maybe, but look who you're asking. Not exactly the best judge on this, little bird."

She scowled at him, making him laugh. "Fine. I suppose you're right. I'm guess I'll keep it."

The doorbell rang, signalling Tommen's arrival. Sansa fixed Sandor's collar before sending him to answer the door. Sansa stayed in the kitchen, getting the plates ready.

"Detective Clegane," Tommen said stiffly when Sandor opened the door.

"Hi!" Myrcella said cheerfully.

"Wasn't expecting both of you," Sandor said, letting them in.

Tommen huffed, looking down his nose at Sandor. "Yes, well, I thought it would be good to make this a foursome instead."

"And did you let Sansa know? Because she's been working hard on this dinner." He knew there was more than enough for an extra person, and he had done more work on the food than she had, but he also didn't like how Tommen was behaving. The way Tommen's face fell told Sandor that, no, he had not informed Sansa. "I'll tell her. Have a seat anywhere."

He walked into the kitchen to find Sansa finishing a fourth plate. "I heard," she said. "Think you can take all four or should we both take two?"

He had seen waiters carry six plates at a time, but having never done so before, he answered with, "Two plates each would probably be better."

The dinner was lively only because Myrcella and Sansa kept the chatter up. Sandor contributed where he could, but Tommen was sullen and taciturn no matter who asked him a question. 

"Tommen," Myrcella prompted after dessert. "Didn't you want to say something to Sansa?"

Tommen grumbled. "I'm sorry, Sansa. For what I said earlier." Myrcella beamed at him. "But it's completely true! This brute is not worthy of you--"

"TOMMEN!" Myrcella screamed, hurting Sandor's eardrums a bit. "Please, we talked about this!"

"Sansa, Myrcella," Sandor said quietly, "Will you excuse Tommen and me for a moment? I'd like to have a chat with him in the backyard."

"You're not going to kill him, are you?" Myrcella asked. "He kind of deserves it, but it would be a hassle." Tommen scowled at her.

"No, no killing. Not for the moment anyway. C'mon, Baratheon. Let's go." Tommen tensed, but got up and stormed out of the room, heading to the backyard, Sandor only a few steps behind him. Once the door was closed, Sandor looked down at the golden-haired boy. "If you have a problem with me, just come out and say it to me. Don't bother Sansa with it."

Tommen scrunched up his face. "Your  _ presence _ is my problem! Sansa is a lady, worthy of songs and stories being written about her, and she's hanging around you?? You're a good cop, but you shouldn't be allowed in the same city as her, much less the same room."

Sandor almost admired the little snot for standing up to him like this. "You done?" Tommen set his mouth in a tight line and nodded stiffly. "Good. My turn. She's a grown woman, and if she decides she wants to hang out with me, that's her fuckin' business. You think I don't know I'm not even good enough to clean her boots? Think again. But for some reason, she  _ wants _ to be around me, and there's no way in  _ any _ of the seven hells I'm going to tell her no just because  _ you _ don't like it. So get off your fuckin' high horse before you end up getting kicked to the curb."

Tommen's eyes went wide. "You're a scoundrel!"

Sandor rolled his eyes. "Whatever you want to call it, fine. I'm in it for the long haul, kid. As long as she's in danger, I'll be there. And beyond that," he said, when he noticed Tommen about to open his mouth. It was shut with a snap. "At least your sister is on your side, trying to help you with Sansa. Really good that she was able to get to King's Landing so quickly, too."

"Oh, she was already in town actually."

Sandor frowned. The fact nagged at him. "She was? When did she show up?" 

Tommen looked thoughtful. "Oh… well, when I called her to tell her about Sansa, she said she was at the family hotel. She would have had to have checked in at least the night before. The front desk manager would be able to tell you more about that. Why?"

Sandor pulled out his phone from his pocket and quickly looked up the number to the hotel.

_ "Lannister Plaza, this is Kevan. How may I help you?" _

He turned on the speaker and hissed at Tommen, "Ask him."

"Oh! Uh, Uncle Kevan? It's Tommen. I just need to know, when did Myrcella check in to the hotel? When she first came into town two weeks ago."

_ "Tommen, my boy. Good to hear from you. Let me check. Oh… it was at around six o'clock on the eighth." _

Sandor's heart began to race.  _ The night Ros Snow was killed. _

Kevan Lannister continued,  _ "You know, I've been worried about her. That same night, she went out to see someone, said she was going to win the love of her life back, but when she returned, she was in tears, and I think she had been doused in wine, because her clothing was stained red. The poor girl. Wouldn't let me take care of it for her either." _

"Ask him what time that was," Sandor whispered. 

"Uh, uncle, what time was that? When she left and when she came back, I mean," Tommen said, looking very confused.

_ "Hmmm… Your grandfather had already gone out for the evening, so I believe it was around eight-thirty that she left, and when she returned, it was just before eleven. I was waiting for the next shift to arrive. Why do you ask, Tommen?" _

"Oh, just needed to know. Been worried about her, too. I'll come by later, uncle. Bye." He disconnected the call before his uncle could replay. "What was that about??"

"Has your sister ever indicated that she wants to be more than friends with Sansa?"

Tommen stared at him. "Like… sisters? Because she was stoked when Sansa and Joffrey were engaged, and devastated when they broke up. Even more than Dad was. She's always been melodramatic though, wild mood swings, that sort of thing. When Sansa kept up the friendship with us despite Joffrey, she got better."

"And when did she start pushing you to pursue Sansa?" 

"Oh, I guess it was the night of the party. I mean, once we both regained consciousness. I still can't believe we both fainted…" 

"Tommen! Focus! Is it possible that your sister is in love with Sansa?" 

Tommen was befuddled. "No? I mean… I don't think so… I mean…" He looked at the ground, trying to sort his thoughts. "I guess… there were some instances when I wondered if she knew how what she was saying sounded… If she were a guy… those situations could be construed as sexual harassment--" 

"So that's a yes then…  _ Fuck!" _ His mind was racing. Everything fit. Myrcella had been in town. She was devastated when Sansa wasn't going to be part of her family. She had a history of mood swings. She had enough time to get from Lannister Plaza, to Sansa's apartment, kill Ros, and get back, covered in blood. Except, what about the rape?  _ Theoretically, she could have used a substitute, something to "represent" her claim on Sansa… shit, they're alone in the house! _

Sandor flung open the door and ran inside, leaving Tommen on the back porch. He heard sobbing from the dining room.

_ "Why won't you love me?! I love you, Sansa! You're my soulmate!! I looooove yoooouuuu!" _

Sandor didn't think, he just ran at the small pixie girl, tackling her from her position on top of an unconscious Sansa. "Tommen!! Grab my cuffs!" The boy had followed Sandor and was staring dumbly at him. "TOMMEN!!"

The boy snapped out of it and scrambled for the handcuffs. Sandor snapped them onto the crying Myrcella's wrists, leaving her facedown on the floor while he checked on Sansa.

"Please be breathing, please be breathing…" he whispered. Bruises were already forming on her delicate neck, but he was relieved to see her chest moving up and down. Her pulse was not as strong as it could have been, but she was alive.  _ She's alive, _ he thought to himself as he pulled out his phone to call an ambulance and then Beric.


	9. Epilogue

"Man, I can't believe _Myrcella_ was the one who killed Ros," Robb said. Sandor was standing in the back of the hospital waiting room, while all of Sansa's family was crowding around the good sofa. They had been arriving over the past few days since Sansa had been admitted to the hospital. Catelyn was fretting over her, insisting that she stay just a day longer, but the doctors had cleared her to leave. "So glad I never asked her out."

"I was just as surprised," Arya replied. "Who knew she had it in her?"

Sandor sighed and quietly left the room. _Anyone can do just about anything if they're given the right push,_ he thought. The doctor was just leaving Sansa's room as he arrived.

"Ah, detective. Just in time. Miss Stark is awake and asking for you." The older man gave him a kind smile before walking away.

Taking a deep breath, Sandor opened the door to the hospital room. She was propped up on the bed, her eyes closed. She opened them when she heard his footsteps approach the bed. "Sandor…" Her voice was still a bit rough, but better than it had been. "Good morning."

"Little bird… how are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "I'm ok, considering… Better than I was." She wrung her hands, then said, "Is Myrcella… Is she ok? Is she going to be ok? What did you find out? I'm ready to hear it. And I promise I won't throw up this time." Sandor had been hesitant about telling her.

He sighed and resigned himself to the task. "I don't know if she'll be ok. She tried to kill you when you didn't return her feelings. She _did_ kill Ros, thinking it was you. Raped her with a double-ended dildo she brought for you." They had found it among her things at the hotel, still with Ros's blood on it.

Sansa shuddered. "So… she had sex with Ros… while she was dying… and thought it was me?"

"Seems so. She started babbling to Beric on the ride to the police station. Also seems that she thought it would join the two of you for all eternity. Soulmates. Or something like that. Whatever. Her mind seems to have broken... he said he was getting things mixed up, saying she had killed you twice, but the evidence is clear. She's going away for a very long time." It was a solid case for the DA, and it looked like she was going to push for Myrcella Baratheon to go to a heavily secured mental health facility. He shook his head. "She's a deeply disturbed young woman that was able to present a facade of sanity and sweetness."

"She had been texting me earlier that day," Sansa said. "She told me she loved me. I thought she meant… I responded to telling her she was like a second sister to me. She never replied to that. Then my phone broke… and everything happened… I never thought that she… that she would…" Her voice trailed off sadly.

"It's not your fault. She wanted more than you were willing to give. She would have snapped at some point even if you hadn't said that."

Sansa reached out to him, and he took her hand in his, letting her draw him closer to her. "When you and Tommen left the room, she asked me if I could ever love Tommen like I loved Joffrey. I thought it was time that I told her the truth, that I never loved Joffrey, that I could only see Tommen as a younger brother. Then she asked if I could ever love her. I told her that yes, I did love her, as I loved Arya. That's when she… I fought her as much as I could, but… she was my _friend._ How could I hurt her? I learned how to fend off an attacker, but I never learned how to fend off a _friend."_ She shook her head. "She nearly killed me, didn't she?"

"I don't know how close she got. Maybe. You were very pale when I found you. More pale than usual, I mean." That got a slight smile out of her. "Sansa… I…" The words stuck in his throat. He had never been that great with speaking his emotions. How did he tell her that he had been lost in those few moments he had thought she might be truly dead? How did he tell her that he wanted her to stay with him, that he wanted to keep her safe, to make her laugh, to turn her frowns into smiles? He took the seat next to the bed and scooted as close as he could. "Please don't leave me again."

"Sandor…" She tugged on his shirt, pulling him close, and pressed her lips softly against his. "I won't. I promise you, my lonely knight."

**********

**One Year Later**

"Still no movement?" Sandor asked his partner. They were stuck on a long term stakeout in an apartment across the way from their target, waiting for the perp to surface. The guy claimed to be a psychic, but there was no way he could be one, and had swindled millions from his customers, one of which had turned up dead. It was a trick, and they were going to catch him red handed in the act. "Want me to get coffee?"

"Please, if you would be a dear," Sansa said, peering through the lens of the high powered video camera. "You know how I like it."

"Which do you like best again? Hot and fast, or slow and torturous?" he asked with an evil grin. He dodged the notebook thrown at his head. "Right, right, three sweet creams, no extra sugar. I got it, I got it."

"You better get it," Sansa said, trying to not smile. "Or else I'll get you."

"Promises, promises." He closed the door just before Sansa erupted in a fit of giggles. His phone rang as he descended in the elevator. "Ber."

_"How's the missus?"_

Sandor rolled his eyes. He and Sansa, now a licensed private detective that was helping with the case due to her own client, were posing as a married couple as part of the stakeout. It wasn't the first case she had helped with, nor would it be the last. Not if he had anything to say about it. She was a great asset to investigations. Plus, they weren't really "posing" as a married couple. They had actually gotten married already, at the courthouse with only her sister and Beric as witnesses, but Catelyn had insisted on letting her plan a huge wedding. Sansa had given her mother the go ahead, just so long as they could pick the dress and tux they'd be wearing. The funniest part of the whole thing was that  _he_ was the one who had to make sure  _she_ didn't get too wrapped up in work, and oftentimes was the one that got Sansa to get out and have some fun. "She's fine. Getting her some coffee now. What's up?"

Beric launched into some new details for another case they were working as Sandor walked to the corner store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends another story. I feel really good about this one. :3


End file.
